"In all that which pertains to the occupation, the possession and the administration of these fragments of its ancient extensive territory, the usages and customs of the tribe have force of law. The village is governed by a Council of Sachems; in cases of misunderstandings an appeal lies to the Ottawa Bureau, under the control of the Minister of the Interior (our "Downing street" wisely abstaining from interference except on very urgent occasions). Lands descend by right of inheritance; the Huron Council alone being authorized to issue location tickets; none are granted but to Huron boys, strangers being excluded. Of course, these disabilities affect the denizens of the reserve only; a Huron (and there are some, Tahourenche, Vincent and others) owning lands in his own right elsewhere, and paying taxes and tithes, enjoys the rights and immunities of any other British subject."
From the date of the Lorette Indian settlement in 1697, down to the year of the capitulation of Quebec—1759—the annals of the tribe afford but few stirring incidents: an annual bear, beaver, or cariboo hunt; the return of a war party, with its scalps—English, probably—as the tribe had a wholesome terror of the Iroquois; an occasional pow wow as to how many warriors could be spared to assist their trusted and brave allies, the French of Quebec, against the heretical soldiers of Old or New England.
We are in possession of no facts to show that these Christianised Hurons differed much from other Christianised Indians; church services, war councils, feasting, smoking, dancing, scalping, fishing and hunting, filling in, agreeably, socially, or usefully, the daily routine of their existence. Civilization, as understood by christianised or by pagan savages, has never inspired us with unqualified admiration. The various siege narratives we have perused, whilst they bring in the Indian allies, at the close of the battle, to "finish off" the wounded at Montmorency, in July, 1759; at the plains of Abraham, in September 1759; at St. Foye, in April, 1760, generally mention the Abenaquis for this delicate office of friseurs. The terror, nay, the horror, which the use of the tomahawk and scalping knife inspired to the British soldiery, was often greater than their fear of the French sabres and French musquetoons.
British rule, in 1759, if it did bring the Hurons less of campaigning and fewer scalps, was the harbinger of domestic peace and stable homes, with very remunerative contracts each fall for several thousands of pairs of snow-shoes, cariboo mocassins and mittens for the English regiments tenanting the Citadel of Quebec, whose wealthy officers every winter scoured the Laurentine range, north of the city, in quest of deer, bear and cariboo, under the experienced guidance of Gros Louis, Sioui, Vincent, and other famous Huron Nimrods.
The chronicles of the settlement proclaim the valour and wisdom of some of their early chiefs, conspicuous appears the renowned Ahatsistari, surnamed the Huron Saul, from his early hostility to missionaries; death closed his career, on the verdant banks of Lake Huron, in 1642, a convert to missionary teachings.
At the departure of the French, in 1759, a new allegiance was forced on the sons of the forest, St. George and his dragon for them took the place of St. Louis and his lilies. The Deer, the Bear, the Tortoise and the Wolf tribe, however, have managed to live on most friendly terms with the Dragon. In 1776, Lorette sent its contingent of painted and plumed warriors to fight General Burgoyne's inglorious campaigns. The services rendered to England by her swarthy allies in the war of 1812-14 were marked, for years a distribution of presents took place from the Quebec Commissariat and Indian Department. Proudly did the Hurons, as well as the Abenaquis, Montagnais, Micmac and Malicite Indians bear the snow- white blankets, scarlet cloth and hunting-knives awarded them by George the King, and by the victors of Waterloo. Each year, at midsummer, the Indians in their canoes, with their live freight of hunters, their copper- coloured squaws and black-eyed papooses, rushed from Labrador, Gaspé, Restigouche, Baie des Chaleurs, and pitched their tents on a strip of land at Lévi, hence called Indian Cove, the city itself being closed to the grim monarchs of the woods, reputed ugly customers when in their cups. A special envoy, however, was sent to the Lorette Indians on similar occasions. The Indians settled on Canadian soil were distinguished for their loyalty to England, who has ever treated them more mercifully than did "Uncle Sam."
The war between England and the United States in 1812 brought the Lorette braves again to the front, and the future hero of Châteauguay, Col. De Salaberry, was sent to enlist them. Col. De Salaberry attended in person on the tribe, at Indian Lorette. A grand pow-wow had been convoked. The sons of the forest eagerly sent in their names and got in readiness when the Colonel returned a few days later to inform them that the Government had decided to retain them as a reserve in the event of Quebec being attacked from the Kennebec.
Notwithstanding this announcement, six Hurons (among whom were Joseph and
Stanislas Vincent) claimed with loud cries the right to accompany the
Canadian Voltigeurs, commanded by the Colonel.
At Châteauguay, where 300 Canadians so gloriously repelled 7,000 invaders, the brothers Vincent swam across the river to capture and make prisoners, the flying Yankees.
These swarthy warriors had but a faint idea of what military discipline meant, and thinking that, the battle being over, they could return to Lorette, left accordingly. This was a flagrant case of desertion. Nothing short of the brave Colonel's earnest entreaties, sufficed to procure a pardon for the redskins. A letter was written to Col. De Salaberry by his father, late M.P. for the county, on this subject; it has been preserved.